


Feels Like the First Time

by waterbird13



Series: Tumblr Fics [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-29 01:02:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3876487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterbird13/pseuds/waterbird13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean reconnect physically after Route 666. This is an older fic being moved over from Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feels Like the First Time

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Everyone!
> 
> This is another fic being moved over from Tumblr.   
> Warnings include explicit sex, top Dean. This is Wincest and mentions weecest (where Sam was seventeen). They have sex in a car. I think that's it.  
> Prompt is: first time after stanford wincest.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

            It’s funny, Sam thinks, that they’re doing this in the car. Again.

            Of course, first times are supposed to mean something. Or that’s what Dean had said when Sam was seventeen. Said it was supposed to be with someone special, somewhere special. Dean had completely ignored those rules for himself, but Sam had always felt blessed that his first time had been with Dean, the person he loved above all others, in the backseat of the Impala, the only home he has ever known.

            This isn’t their first time, or their second. Sam didn’t exactly keep count but he’d bet money on it’s not their hundredth, either. They’d had less than a year together before Sam left, but they’d taken every available opportunity to make it count. Sam had wanted as many good memories of home as he could possibly leave with. Maybe Dean was just a really horny guy. Maybe he sensed Sam slipping away.

            It’s been years. It’s been years, and Sam has had a whole different life in the interim. But Dean is alive, and it’s a damn miracle that Sam doesn’t care about the cost of. And then they’d gone to see that girl, and she clearly thought Dean was hers. And Dean loved her, but he loves Sam more, and Sam knows it without Dean having to say it. He left town with Sam, and that’s enough. He loves Sam.

            And Sam still loves Dean, despite how hard he tried not to. He can’t stop.

            He asks Dean to pull over once they’re away from Mississippi, and Dean does. Once Dean pulls they key from the ignition, Sam leans over and kisses Dean.

            It’s been years. Sam isn’t the barely-eighteen year old kid anymore. He’s had three girlfriends, one of them serious, between now and his last kiss with Dean. Dean has slept with god-knows how many girls. But it doesn’t matter, because like Sam has always suspected and feared a bit, they are made for each other. There’s no forgetting how their lips fit together or the way Dean whimpers.

            Dean pulls away first. “Sammy…” he begins, but Sam isn’t ready to have this conversation now, so he puts a finger over Dean’s mouth.

            “You still love me?” he asks. Eyes wide, Dean nods. “Good. You still want me?” Dean nods again. “I love you too, I want you. Anything else to talk about?”

            Dean shakes his head. “Backseat,” he murmurs, and both brothers scrambles out their doors and into the back.

            Sam studies the space with a critical eye. He’s bigger now than he was at seventeen, having put on almost three inches since then. They barely fit back then.

            Dean seems to be studying the same problem. “There’s a motel further up,” he suggests, but Sam barely hears him.

            He yanks his clothes off and roughly throws them into the front seat, then begins pulling at Dean’s, who gets the picture and helps Sam. Once they’re both naked, Sam lies on the back bench, hooks one leg over the front bench and pulls the other as far back as possible.

            Dean’s eyes are dark. “Damn, Sammy,” he murmurs. He reaches under the seat and pulls out a half-empty bottle of lube, one Sam thinks has probably been there since before Sam left for school.

            “You kept that?” he asks.

            Dean rolls his eyes as he coats his fingers. “Never know when it’ll come in handy, bitch. Saved your ass tonight.”

            He opens Sam slowly. They don’t really have the room for any serious foreplay, but Dean bites and kisses at the inside of Sam’s thighs as he slides one, two, three fingers inside him.

            Sam is squirming on Dean’s fingers, looking for more when Dean finally pulls out. “Dean…” he begs.

            “Shh, gimme a second,” Dean whispers as he slicks his dick, lines himself up, and slides home.

            Sam lets out a groan that’s not entirely pleasure, and Dean freezes. “Alright, Sammy?”

            Sam grunts. “It’s been four years, Dean. Gimme a second.”

            Dean does, and the pain fades quickly. Sam pushes back on Dean in an experimental thrust, and he groans, takes the leg hooked over the seat and wraps it around Dean instead, urging him to move.

            Dean does, with long, slow rolls that brush Sam’s prostate every time, and Sam had managed to forget a little bit of how good that feels. Soon, Sam is panting, pushing up, trying to get some friction for his cock.

            Dean manages to snake a hand into the tangle of limbs and gets it around Sam’s cock, matching the rhythm he’s set.

            “Dean, ‘m close…” Sam pants.

            “Come for me, Sammy,” Dean says, and Sam does, Dean following right behind him. When they both come down, Sam lowers his legs and Dean collapses on top of him, the come on their stomachs making a disgusting sticky sound as Dean slides through it.

            A few minutes later, once they have their breath back, Dean hesitantly asks. “Hey, Sammy—we good?”

            “Yeah, Dean,” Sam says. “We’re good.”


End file.
